Treasure Island

Paul Hansford

A Poem about Recycling

My ultimate ambition in life
is to be recycled. When I die
I shall not be put
with the newspapers, plastic bottles,
glass (separated into green, brown and white) ,
cans and aluminium foil
into the box to be collected
on alternate Mondays
- that is not dignified
for a human,
and besides it is unhygienic.
But recycled I will be
into soil and air,
beetle, centipede and blackbird,
and the blossom
that every year comes
and fades.
I'll be back.

Submitted: Sunday, April 26, 2009

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  • Jacqui Thewless (7/9/2009 5:09:00 AM)

    This one I like. A lot. Scratch the veneer of every politically conformist Englishman and this is what you get: the yearning for the woods, the fens, the un-charted miles.. (Report) Reply

  • Anjali Sinha (5/10/2009 9:37:00 AM)

    yes we all know you will be back
    a gentle remindar to all
    'thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return'
    an excellent write--I liked it
    thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

  • Chitra - (5/2/2009 5:35:00 AM)

    cosmic all through...the higher spirit within us and its dynamics well said (Report) Reply

  • Susan Jarvis (4/29/2009 10:25:00 PM)

    Humour with a pinch of pathos - I love it! By the way, is your middle name Arnie? S ;) (Report) Reply

  • Sathyanarayana M V S (4/29/2009 9:21:00 PM)

    We'll all be back; but not in the same body (mutable) but as the same soul in another body. Nice poetry, with unmistakable humour. (Report) Reply

Read all 7 comments »

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